


i’m leaving here without you (i’m on the east coast)

by VITRI0L



Category: DreamSMP, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: /roleplay, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Betrayal, Emotional Hurt, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Extended Metaphors, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Moral Ambiguity, Sad Toby Smith | Tubbo, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), based on the december 27th stream, it hurts my soul your honour, no beta we die like ranboo anytime techno and tommy stream together, they’re ex best friends, tommy and tubbo meeting and it goes just about as well as we thought
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28435887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VITRI0L/pseuds/VITRI0L
Summary: tubbo finds out the tommy isn’t dead, but he’s certainly not the tommy he remembers.//lowercase intended\\//TW:\\ references to suicide
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 8
Kudos: 158
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	i’m leaving here without you (i’m on the east coast)

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha, angst go brrr
> 
> title: east coast - CASTLEBEAT

ranboo brings back the person tommy thought he’d never see again. the person that he tells himself that he loathes, the person who’d sealed tommy’s fate with nothing more than a cold glare in those brown eyes and the person who was supposed to be his best friend.

“tommy?” tubbo whispers, words almost swallowed by the biting wind. “you’re— how are you alive?”

the world fades around the two, like they are the only ones who mattered. they should have been the only ones who mattered, the only person the other needed. that’s what best friends are for, or so tommy supposed. 

_“run away with me, tubbo.”_

_“we’d have everything we’d ever wanted...”_

the universe spills across their feet, but it looks all wrong. inky space taints the world, but the stars are broken and flickering. the sun is fading, struggling to keep its fire. the planets are knocked off their axes. their gravitational pull is not enough to hold them steady and they frantically grasp for something, anything, to keep them together. 

it’s all broken, shattered. tommy knows it will never be able to be fixed.

dull blue eyes lock with watery brown ones and the universe on their feet cracks once more. tommy wants to float away, he wants to go back because maybe he’ll find clara in the depths of space. he can’t stand to look at the boy, miles across from him, who looks like he’d seen the amicable face of death and regretted it.

 _i thought you were dead,_ tubbo had said. 

tommy’s angry.

“what do you mean?”

it’s whispered softly, but there are daggers hidden in the words. it is a false sweetness, a trap, a disguise meant to deceive. something that tommy knows too much about.

“remember when he exiled you, tommy?” 

technoblade’s voice jeers, echoing loudly from behind the blond. his eyes never more, however, as he careful watches the person he should despise.

“yeah,” he responses.

every emotion runs through tubbo’s eyes just then. tommy struggles to keep his blank, unwilling to be betrayed by himself. tommy only has himself now, because the universe continued to expand as it broke. it was doing a brilliant job of separating the once inseparable teens.

“yes... i— i remember. i also remember wh-when you died...”

the brunet is broken.

tommy finds himself wishing that those words had died on tubbo’s tongue. 

his beating heart has been smashed again and again, leaving his chest empty and dull. 

just like his blue eyes.

tubbo continues when tommy says nothing more.

“but... i guess you didn’t!”

pained amusement is laced in the soft voice. tubbo’s hand is clasped over where his heart would be, grabbing at the white fabric of his shirt like the teen is about to have a heart attack. tommy wants to grab that hand, to hold it in his own and to feel the soothing warmth of his once best friend.

tommy is not strong enough. he cannot move, and his pull will not reach tubbo. the space between is growing and he can’t stop it.

he wants it all to just end.

“what, when you exiled me?!” the blond exclaims loudly.

it is a conversation that tommy was not ready for. he’d opened the gates for this discussion, but he desperately wished to shut them again. because even the thought of it felt like someone plunging a sword between his ribs (or pulling an embedded sword out of his frail body, it doesn’t matter. they both feel the same to tommy anyways). 

tubbo blanches.

tommy wants to shut him up.

“so, you thought i died out there, huh? fucking prick, you knew!”

he hopes the desperation doesn’t seep into his words.

“no!” tubbo practically screams, panic gripping him like a vice. 

shock slams into tommy and his blank expression falls. his mouth hangs open, brows knitted together in confusion and his eyes shine. 

“ghostbur was with you! and, i didn’t know how far you’d been taken until i went there... tommy, i didn’t know how bad...”

the anger is back.

“you never tried to visit me!” the blond shouts over the older.

“i did! i did! i went twice... but, dream was always there. he told me that i couldn’t say anything to you... tommy...”

none of it made any sense. tommy had hallucinated tubbo, and the phantom vision had crept around the little bay where logstedshire used to sit. dream hadn’t seen tubbo, only ghostbur had and tommy didn’t trust the word of a ghost.

(he wasn’t wilbur, ghostbur wasn’t wilbur because wilbur was dead, so wilbur couldn’t be ghostbur. 

tommy wanted him to be, though.)

the words continue to spill from the brunet’s lips. they begin to run together, filled with a deep sorrow that feels like a precisely aimed arrow between the eyes. tommy’s eyes burn as he wills himself to listen.

“tommy, i am so sorry, man. i— i really regret everything, it wasn’t the right thing... i’ve missed you, tommy... please...”

tommy wants to scream, to rant and rave. tubbo is not the author of those words, they aren’t his words to say! how dare he think that a simple speech would solve the months of exilation. lava runs through his nerves and his head throbs furiously and he is going to explode...

 _he’s a liar. tommy, sorry doesn’t cut it,_ a familiar accented voiced tells him.

it sounds oddly like dream.

the universe shatters, and the world fades back in. they were miles apart, but tubbo’s soft hands latch onto his own scared ones. where their hand connects, the skin smolders. needles are burying themselves into the blond’s calloused and rough fingers. tommy is sure it’s warm enough to melt the skin away while he is still breathing. 

tubbo reaches out.

tommy’s feels his hearing disappear. his ears have gone blind and the pressure is building.

the planets are going to collide.

 _the president of a crater!_ a voice mocks loudly.

_wilbur._

tommy steps back.

everything is deathly still as the blond pulls himself from those warm hands. tears burn, but tommy doesn’t let them fall. he steps away to stand next to techno, who looks rather bored.

tommy feels like he’s just been shot in the heart.

“now that the reunion’s over, let’s get back to business. my trident.”

techno is there. ranboo is there. the four of them stand in the snow field beside tubbo’s beehouse, just outside of l’manburg. techno looks bored, wind gently moving his braided pink hair about. ranboo looks extremely uncomfortable, worry and despair rooted deep in those heterochromatic eyes. 

if tubbo was broken before, tommy doesn’t know what he is now. 

anxiety burns throughout every vein as those brown eyes search his dull ones. hurt sharpens them, like it will help tubbo see how tommy’s really feeling. the pain in his ex best friends eyes makes the blond want to cry, to push aside everything that had happened and pull the brunet into a bruising hug.

 _i want to forgive him,_ tommy hears himself think desperately, _please, can’t it go back to normal?_

_he exiled you, tommy,_ the first voice says. 

_it would be pathetic of you to come crawling back, don’t ya think?_ the seconds asks condescendingly. _besides, he didn’t visit you once._

_tubbo doesn’t care_ , they say. 

tommy stands beside techno, the man who had, in most minds, betrayed l’manburg when he spawned withers that had only added to the damage of wilbur’s explosion. he refuses to look at the president, afraid that his neutral façade would crack if he did. those eyes still search, desperate to recognize the other teen they thought they knew. the gaze is heated, but tommy fights the urge to shift as needles buried themselves deep under his skin. 

tubbo’s demeanor shifts. gone is the seventeen year old who just learned his friend hadn’t killed himself. he was replaced with something cold, distant and professional. 

“right, let’s get down to business,” techno tells them with an exasperating tone tinting his monotone. 

“let’s,” tubbo offers plainly. 

tommy stays silent. business. they are here for business not some sappy, emotional reunion. besides, techno wouldn’t like if he butted in too much. 

the adults were talking, after all. 

but, what tommy won’t know is that there’s a gravestone. originally planned to be cut from quartz, but demanded to be changed to cobblestone. it is a simple slab, rounded at the top corners and with a small cross sat on the top. it was simple, but it was enough. 

it sat just outside of l’manburg, below a certain cliff that faced the sunset. it was hidden by the trees and only those who knew where it was could find it. 

just below the bench, facing the ever constant sunset was a grave. 

it reads; 

_here lies tommyinnit._

_a revolutionary soldier, a fearless and passionate young man whose conviction never wavered. a teen who was a brother, a son, and most deeply, the most loyal and best friend anyone could ask for. he is remember not by the conditions that sealed his fate, but as a hero who fought and made the ultimate sacrifice._

_you can rest now, tommy._

the grave is empty. 

for now. 

**Author's Note:**

> more angst before the writers block really hits! if you have an requests for fics you’d like me to write, put em in the comments! i don’t do ships, though or anything weirdchamp! 
> 
> anyways, i hope you’re doing well <3
> 
> have a good day!


End file.
